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Open Poetry #47
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Ain't Too Late (Growin' Up)
| Open Poetry #47 |
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Ain't Too Late (Growin' Up) |
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soul drifter Senior Member
since 2004-09-08
Posts 711Colorado |
Ain't Too Late (Growin' Up) Sacred Ophelia and her desperate eyes tryin' all the men's lazy gazes on for size the sign in faded paint said, this is not a dark ride but anyway here I go, lookin' for a cozy place to hide and I find out it's your heart, gonna tear me apart leavin' me to chase them ghost cars down a dead end street and the seaside palace crashes down, dust and concrete never gonna find my place to crash, a place to cash in my sins as I look through my rear view to see trouble's about to begin in this August heat the radio keeps the beat from blowin' up oh this is the wonder, the magic of growin' up Profane Romeo, down on his knees storefront church window beggin' please is there any way out of here that won't bleed me dry I point to the rainbow that arcs through the summer sky and I'm singin' my Shakespeare into warm beer 'tween regret and refrain, I swear someday I will repent till then, the circuit is my only means to forget you can find me there, with my hopes too empty to bleed tired and fed up from the needle pain, tossin' all my seeds yeah drivin' my old car, pickin' at scars in need of sowin' up oh this is the beauty, the way of growin' up With a style and a grace all the beauty in her freckled face shines down on my street corner strummin' catch a tiger by the tail, set me runnin' straight to you how time flew no way of knowin' this is the glowing feeling of growin' up dealing mysterio hands of fate now tell me baby it ain't too late it ain't too late it ain't too late darlin' fish or cut bait We all have open hands calloused for love tye dyed messages come in from white doves circlin' round this whole goddamn town like a storm but I'll burn all my stolen car dreams to keep me warm yeah keep me from danger, dark sweet ranger dear and I'm cryin' my Springsteen into warm beer 'tween the bet and the win, swear I'll let you back in just leave my Buddy Holly records on the bar countin' on fingers and toes, well how the hell far throwin' my guitar strings around the stars they're flowin' up into a black sky of dreams I lost as I was growin' up Somebody tell me my thoughts somebody sell me a watch keepin' tabs on the sundial from age three to thirty keep on singin' Sinatra songs you little birdies straight from you no way of comin' through without with a fight shut out that light that won't stop glowin' stop my body from growin' electro-rays shake through my bones ain't too well known just where you go baby swept up like a cyclone Oh that was the beauty the royal majesty the horror, horror the absolute bore that sweetness that bitterness a lost magic trick innocence fell like a brick all these wounds need sowin' up tell me what's the use of growin' up oh growin' up It ain't too late ain't too late fish or cut bait hard promises and the voice of Tom Waits color in my lost avenues of twisted fate ain't too late it ain't too late just you wait baby I'm gonna be a saint all these words I'm throwin' up tell me why the need of growin' up ooh growin' up "If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts" |
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| © Copyright 2011 Zach Hilgefort - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Lori Grosser Rhoden Member Patricius
since 2009-10-10
Posts 10202Fair to middlin' of nowhere |
Sound like a great song to me...growing old is inevitable, growing up is optional. Love it. Lori |
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